


Via Sun

by MidwesternDuchess



Category: RWBY
Genre: Pre-Series, Sanctum Days, Team SSSN, The "How They Met and Got Together" Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidwesternDuchess/pseuds/MidwesternDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The day will be what you make it, so rise like the sun, and burn." -William C. Hannan</p><p> </p><p>  <i>(It starts with the pretentious boy in the goggles and ends with a knife fight in Sanctum's lunchroom. Sun's never been good at staying out of trouble.)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rising Sun

"Watch it!"

Sun ducks smoothly beneath the huge stack of planks carried between two beefy dockworkers, grinning widely. The workers give him dirty looks that hold no heat, and he flashes an apologetic smile before scampering off. The docks here are much cleaner than the ones he's used to back in Vacuo. Safer too, it seems. He hadn't seen a single pirate the entire trip, which was both good and bad.

Good, because Vacuo pirates are notoriously ruthless.

Bad, because, well, pirates are _awesome._

Still, Sun retains his cheerful outlook, one hand tugging absently on the strap that runs across his chest, securing his staff to his back. He'd complained at first—it went against every instinct that had ever kept him alive to display his weapon so obviously.

 _"If you go pulling that staff out from under your shirt, you'll scare people,"_ Jinni had lectured him. _"And what do people do to things that scare them?"_

Sun, reluctantly and not without plenty of attitude, had slid the strap over his head. _"They hurt them,"_ he'd grumbled back. It was an old lesson—one he'd learned early in his days with the nomads.

People attack that which they fear, that which they don't understand. It explained why there were always so many dead Aries around the hills of Vacuo. People—usually tourists—were horrified of the hulking creatures of Grimm, despite the fact that the bulls were totally harmless.

Sun pushes such thoughts to the back of his head, unwilling to let his good mood evaporate. He's in a new place. A new _world,_ practically. The young Faunus all but vibrates with excitement as he makes his way out of the docks, taking everything in with eager anticipation.

This is Mistral. The place where Jinni promised he'd do great things.

 _"Go show those Easterners some Vacuo hospitality,"_ Arvio, another of the nomads, had instructed, ruffling Sun's hair as they saw him off at the Vacuo docks. Iris had only offered him a quick grin, but Sun doesn't blame her.

She'd been watching their backs for pirates and bandits.

Jinni had rolled her eyes as Arvio's advice. _"Just be sure of yourself, Sun,"_ she'd told him seriously. Jinni was always serious, Sun reflected. He supposes she had to be, leading a huge group of nomads and keeping Vacuo's less-than-savory inhabitants well in check like she did. _"You are exceptionally skilled and singularly gifted. You are smart as a whip and possess a tenacious spirit."_

Sun had nodded, chest bursting with pride at her words. Jinni had always believed in him. Even when she'd found him getting mugged in a back alley by some bandits—a tiny, frightened, but utterly determined Faunus with dirt seemingly permanently smudged on his cheeks and a chip on his shoulder something fierce.

Even then—no money, no family, no _nothing_ but a fire burning in his chest—even _then_ Jinni had believed in him.

 _"Make us proud, Sun,"_ Iris called shyly to him, smiling slightly as she gripped his spear.

 _"Yeah! Hurry up and become a Hunter so you can come back and take over here!"_ Arvio added with a wry grin.

Sun had just smiled confidently at all of them, and Jinni had touched her forehead to his in the traditional Vacuo farewell.

 _"Be safe,"_ the old woman told him, white hair escaping her thick braid and blowing in the coarse wind. _"Trust your eyes. Trust your heart."_

Sun had given a firm nod and pulled back, stepping away towards the boat.

And now here he was. The promised land, in a way. Sun takes a deep breath to steady himself. He knows it's not going to be easy, but surely Sanctum can't be much more difficult than Jinni's grueling morning training sessions. That woman had him sweating before the _sun_ was up.

He shrugs to himself, resolving that he'll just have to wait and see, and sets off.

Mistral is a large city—larger than even the largest urban districts of Vacuo—and Sun is immediately entranced by the tall buildings, glossy windows, and neat little gardens that sit it decorated pots around town. Shops and stands crowd the street corners, vendors calling out for the attention of potential customers. He sees a group of girls his own age playing some sort of game, all giggling at each other, and a pair of older boys watching something on a scroll, bursting with laughter. Sun feels himself smiling in turn. It's charming and delightful and he soaks it all up with a huge grin.

He peers curiously at a man wearing a uniform a few feet away. He knows—objectively—what police officers are, but he's never seen one in person before. His friendly instincts are dying for him to go over and say hi, but his Vacuo instincts stay him, keep him wary of authority. He's so wrapped up in his thoughts, he's caught a million miles off guard when the sharp horn of a train rips through the peaceful afternoon, and Sun realizes he's stepped out into the empty air of train tracks.

He tries to reclaim his balance—his tail desperately swishing out for something to latch onto—but he finds nothing and keeps falling forward and _oh god, Jinni's gonna kill him if he gets hit by a train._

He feels a warm hand grab a fistful of his shirt and solid ground returns as he's hauled backwards. The train roars past him, and Sun sees his own stunned expression and his savior's smug grin in its glossy reflection. He huffs with surprise and relief before turning around to see who he has to thank.

It's a girl. Dark skinned and with platinum blonde hair gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck, a few strands escaping and curling around her face as she drops her hand.

She arches a brow. "Easy there, kid. It'd be awfully disappointing to make it all the way here from Vacuo just to get hit by a train."

Sun blinks as she crosses her arms, cocking a hip at staring down at him, curiosity and amusement lighting her olive eyes.

"You're from Vacuo too, aren't you?" he asks. His eyes don't lie, and there's just something about her that tips him off. The steady set to her shoulders, the way she carries herself, the peculiar gleam in her eye. If this girl wasn't raised by the harsh deserts of his childhood, he'll eat his shoes.

She smirks slightly, relaxing. "Good eye," she comments, and Sun tries not to beam at the praise. She offers her hand. "Arslan Altan."

"Sun Wukong," he sticks out a hand, chest puffed up in pride.

She nods, and he tries not to tense when he feels her looking him over. Her eyes travel the length of his staff, the leather gauntlets on his arms, the scratch on his face that still hasn't healed.

_You're not in Vacuo anymore. And she's not a threat._

As if sensing his discomfort, Arslan snaps her gaze back to his face, flashing an easy smile as she drops his hand.

"Sorry," she apologies. "I've heard a lot about you. Guess I'm a little curious."

Sun cocks his head to the side. "Curious?"

She nods, and gestures for him to follow as she leads him away from the train stop. He does so easily, still interested in her explanation.

"You're the talk of the town, kid," she remarks. He searches her for some sort of weapon as they walk, frowning when nothing obvious grabs him. But then, he supposes, she looks plenty capable of a bare-knuckle brawl. She carries the countenance of a prizefighter.

Sun watches the muscles of her right arm flex as she lifts a hand to wave at someone across the street, glad she's apparently taken a liking to him.

"Why?" he asks, still tripping after her as they move through the city. "Why do people care?"

Arslan shrugs. "Vacuo fascinates people. It always has. Everyone has a Semblance, but what we have is more." She glances over her shoulder, that knowing smirk back on her lips, holding out her right hand. Sun's eyes grow huge as a small wisp of fire flickers in her dark palm, before she curls her fingers over it.

"You're attending Sanctum, right?" she asks casually—like she hadn't conjured _fire_ —and Sun nods, excitement bubbling back up in his chest. Arslan seems pleased.

"Good. It's a good school, and you'll do well." Pride glows warmly in Sun's chest. "I'm a third-year there. Give me a shout if you ever find yourself in trouble, yeah?" She smirks again. "Us Vacuo kids gotta look out for each other."

He nods earnestly, and she turns away. Sun assumes that's the end of their conversation, and he opens his mouth to thank her, but he catches sight of a handful kids standing a stone's throw away, openly staring at Sun and Arslan, whispering behind their hands.

He frowns at the familiar scene. Kids were always pointing and whispering at him back in Vacuo. Sun Wukong—the boy with magic eyes who ran with Jinni and her ragtag band of misfit nomads.

"You'd better get used to the staring, kid." He glances around to see Arslan studying him. She arches an eyebrow. "You're the most interesting thing to roll into town since that scythe-wielding Hunter a few months back."

Sun frowns unhappily. Arslan chuckles.

"You want my advice? Let your staff do the talking." She points to the weapon strapped to his back. "You can talk all you want, but no one's gonna listen. You start swinging that thing around?" She scoffs, cocking an eyebrow. "People are gonna hear you out."

Sun frowns. "But…" he barely stops himself from saying _that's the whole reason he left._ That's what Vacuo was like—you proved your worth with a weapon and that was that. He frowns at the memory of gang members—kids tougher, rougher, and meaner than he'd ever be trying to coax him away from his life with Jinni and the other nomads, to lend his skills to their less-than-noble causes.

She peers at his expression, clearly picking up on the displeasure rolling off of him.

"You're an outsider," she explains with a shrug, and he blinks, looking up at her in confusion. "A Faunus from Vacuo. That's two strikes before you've even told them your name. People are interested in you, but interest and suspicion aren't so far off."

He frowns. "You're from Vacuo too," he points out.

She shrugs. "My parents and I moved here when I was ten. The only people who know I wasn't born here are professors who've read my transcript and pesky little natives like you." Her eyes shine with humor, and he knows she's only teasing him. He huffs a sigh, letting his eyes drift back to the small crowd of people watching them.

"Hey." Sun looks up when she touches his shoulder. "Breathe, okay? Focus. What do people always say back home?"

He lifts his chin, eyes flashing in the Mistral sun as he recites the phrase Jinni had taught him—the phrase all Vacuo children are taught to call upon in hard times.

"Keep your face towards the sun, and the shadows will fall behind you," he says.

She nods her approval. "Just remember that, and you'll do well." She reaches out to ruffle his hair, and Sun smiles at the genuine camaraderie he feels with this girl. "Keep your chin up, kid. I'll see you around."

-0-

Sun is—for once in his life—actually early.

The man working the administration desk at Sanctum is kind, if a bit chatty, and Sun drums his fingers on the side of the desk as the worker types away at a keyboard. The Faunus takes the free moment to look around the lobby of the school.

There's no primary school of any kind in Vacuo, yet Shade staunchly refuses any applicants without a diploma from some sort of previous combat academy. Jinni had explained that those rules are in place to keep those who legally can't leave the Kingdom—bandits, pirates, thieves—from applying and entering the school.

But as Sun had pointed out, it also makes it hard for people like him—down on their luck kids without a penny to their name—hard to get in, too.

The look Jinni had given him in reply made Sun's stomach turn over uncomfortably.

Regardless, the nomads had scraped together enough money to get him on a boat, and Sanctum had accepted his application, so here he is.

 _Four years,_ he tells himself. _Get through four years at Sanctum and then you'll be back home in Vacuo._

He likes Mistral—what he's seen of it in the half-mile he walked from the docks to the school's entrance, anyway—but Vacuo is home. A home that routinely knocks him on his ass, but a home nonetheless.

"Well, there we are," the man announces cheerfully, and Sun stills his movements. The man looks up to offer him a friendly smile. "You're all checked in," he reports. "Your first class is bright and early Monday morning."

Sun nods his thanks. "Where do I put my stuff?"

Not that he has a lot, really. All he has is a few changes of shirts, a spare pair of jeans, a medical kit, some of his favorite desert jerky, his book of Vacuo myths, and a note from Jinni that essentially reads: _"be yourself and call me before doing anything stupid."_

But still, what he has is precious to him, and he holds the straps of the battered duffle bag a little tighter.

The man just smiles kindly. "It'll be a campout of sorts in the main hall until classes start and professors decide who to group up." He nods to the grand double doors that lead to the main hall. "You can just place your things in there."

Uncertainty twists Sun's stomach as he turns to enter the main hall. Leaving his belongings out in the open and unattended leaves all sorts of bad tastes in his mouth. Aren't there thieves in Mistral too?

He sweeps his gaze over the piles of bags that line the walls of the main hall, trying not to feel self-conscious about the amount of luggage some people have brought along. He finally spies a simple olive-green duffle bag not too different to his own, and drops his stuff off beside it, casting a quick glance at the nametag.

Hopefully this _Sage Ayana_ guy doesn't go through his stuff.

-0-

Sun spends the rest of the day milling around the city.

He can't get over all the _noise._ The backwoods deserts of Vacuo are silent as a grave, save for the roaring wind and occasional cry from a Grimm. Sun, a natural chatterbox in his own right, falls into easy conversation with anyone who will spare a moment to address the overly-excited blond darting around the marketplace. He's received warmly by nearly everyone, but he can see a few people give the staff on his back and the tail dragging behind him a second glance.

He's listening to a woman running a fruit stand explain the complications of growing paopu fruit, when he hears a shriek go up from somewhere deeper in the market.

Frowning in concern, Sun turns towards the noise, pushing his way through the crowd until he spies a pair of girls huddled together, watching warily as a boy with turquoise hair stands with his arms crossed, staring down at something on the ground.

Sun can see his cocky grin from where he's standing, but can't see what he's looking at. He turns to try and get a better vantage point, still listening in.

"Just kill it, Neptune! It's creepy!" the first girl complains, eyeing whatever it is with fear in her eyes. Sun jumps lithely from the tabletop of an abandoned stand to grab the edge of a nearby roof, neatly pulling himself up on top.

Neptune just laughs. "Aw, it's not hurting anyone. Look, I think he likes me." Sun peers over the edge of the roof to see the boy extending his hand towards whatever it is. Sun squints, trying to get a good look…

"Come on, Neptune! This isn't funny!" the second girl protests. "It could be really dangerous!"

Neptune lifts his head to give the girl a self-assured smirk, taking his eyes off of the tiny, jet-black creature that sits before him. Sun's eyes go wide when he sees the scorpion-like creature rear back, the stinger flashing in the light as the thing prepares to lunge forward—

"Look out!"

Sun is a golden flash as he leaps straight from his perch and takes the boy down with a tackle that wouldn't have won any prizes, but successfully sends them both tumbling away. They end up with Sun pinning Neptune to the ground, looking around for the bug-like creature.

He sees it scuttling away and—one hand braced on the ground, the other reaching for his staff—snaps it in half with a practiced flick of his wrist, aims Jingu Bang's gun, takes the briefest of aim, and fires.

His aim is true—Sun's a dead shot with his gunchucks thanks to countless afternoons spent shooting down old soda cans in the desert with Jinni—and the creature drops dead, curved tail going limp. Sun releases a breath, relieved beyond measure.

 _"Ow,"_ the other boy complains, glaring pointedly.

"Oh, sorry!" Sun scrambles to his feet, hastily offering a hand. Neptune eyes it darkly before pulling himself to his feet, dusting his coat off. Sun tries not to be disappointed by the rejection, and stuffs his hand in his pocket.

"You looking for a fight?" Neptune asks sharply, blue eyes flashing as he rounds on Sun. The Faunus pulls a face. This boy _clearly_ has no idea what Sun just saved him from.

"That was a Maeasm!" Sun protests, pointing at the now very dead creature. One of the girls behind them gasps at the name, and he's glad at least someone has the right idea. He'd always thought they looked like a cross between a King Taijitu and a Death Stalker, but tiny. Like, _palm of your hand_ tiny.

Either way—creepy. And totally deadly.

"Their poison can stop your heart," Sun says, repeating the same words he'd heard Jinni tell tourists who wandered too far into the desert. He wrinkles his nose as he peers at the small creature of Grimm. "How'd it get all the way to Mistral?"

"You idiot!" Neptune snaps at him. Sun blinks at his sudden anger, too shocked to react even when he plants his hands on Sun's chest and shoves him backwards.

The Faunus stumbles, but he catches himself, eyes narrowing. No way he gets pushed around his first day in Mistral. And _especially_ not for _helping_ someone.

"What's your problem?" Sun snaps back, properly scowling as he shifts back into Neptune's space. He's got one hand on his staff, and sees the shaft of some sort of weapon sticking out over the other boy's back. A spear, he assumes. Or a lance.

Good. He'd been brought up sparring against spears and scimitars—the preferred weapons of pretty much every nomad but him. If it comes to blows, Sun likes his chances. But there's something about this boy that rankles him—something he can't name that's gnawing at that part of his brain he associates with his eyes. His ability to see through disguises, lies, and pretenses of all kinds.

But he stubbornly sets his jaw, ignoring the stirrings of his gift. He doesn't care what this boy's hiding. Nobody gets to push him around.

Neptune glares back. "I didn't need your help," he sneers. "So take a hike."

Anger flashes in Sun's stormy gaze. "You were about to get stung by one of the deadliest Grimm in Remnant," he snaps. "A thank-you would be nice."

Neptune's anger matches his. "I had it under control," he says stubbornly. "I know what a Maesam is!"

Sun scoffs. "Yeah? Then you'd think you could say the name right."

The boy flushes, but recovers quickly. Sun glowers at the smug smirk that twists Neptune's lips.

"I know you," he says. "You're that goat herder from Vacuo."

Sun bristles when the girls snicker at Neptune's description. "I did a lot more than herd goats," he snaps back, balling his fists. "And you _don't_ know me."

But Neptune isn't listening, he just turns back to the girls, giving an exaggerated eye roll. "Can you believe this guy's trying to steal my thunder?" he asks, and Sun balks when the girls coo sympathetically.

"I don't care about your _thunder!"_ Sun protests. "I just saved your life!"

"Look man," Neptune dusts off his coat and gives Sun a blunt, unrepentant look. "I can't bee seen with you, okay? I've got a reputation to keep up. And there's no room for a dirty Vacuo kid in my life. Got it?"

Sun scowls as Neptune offers him a jaunty salute before turning to stride away.

"Fine!" he shouts after him. "Next time, I'll just let it sting you!"

He turns away, still scowling fiercely as he shoulders his way through the crowd. He passes the fruit vendor he'd been speaking to earlier, noticing she's now chatting with an elderly man.

"Children can be so cruel," the man mutters as Sun stalks by, and the woman hums in agreement.

 _Four years,_ Sun reminds himself with a frown. He continues his march back to Sanctum. _Four years._

Tears sting at his eyes, and he scrubs at them stubbornly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So,” the blond remarks, temper somewhat soothed. Sage has an easygoing presence, he notices distractedly. “What’s a guy gotta do to get his arm put back into place?”_
> 
> _“Ask nicely.” But Sage is already shifting, moving from his spot against the wall to kneel at Sun’s side, eyes riveted to his shoulder. “It looks clean, which leads me to believe you did it yourself, and didn’t lose a fight.” He arches an eyebrow, glancing up to give the Faunus a knowing look._
> 
> _Sun’s expression sours. “I don’t lose fights.”_

The list is starting to bother Sun.

He likes competition—specifically winning—but feels a strange sort of anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he stands with Arslan and the other students as one of the professors busies himself with hanging up the large sheet of paper.

"Are you gonna be on top?" Sun asks, genuinely curious, looking up at the older girl.

Arslan laughs. "Me? Not a chance." She folds her arms. "I mean, I may end up in the top twenty or so, but everyone knows who's going to get the number one spot."

Sun sets his jaw, annoyed. _"I_ don't," he points out, probably a bit sharper than needed.

Arslan side-eyes him, amused. "You still bent out of shape about Neptune?" she asks. When he stubbornly looks away, she just chuckles. "That was weeks ago, Sun. You need to let it go."

He pouts and folds his arms across his chest. Arslan smirks to herself, shaking her head.

The list has been the talk of the school for the entire first week. Apparently Sanctum, in the spirit of healthy competition, liked to rank its entire student body based on their combat prowess.

Sun shifts his weight anxiously as the professor keeps working. He hates being judged.

"Hey." He flicks his gaze up to see Arslan staring down at him. "Relax, kid. Don't take it too seriously, okay? It's really just meant to inspire some harmless rivalry. It's not a big deal."

Sun tries to allow himself to be soothed, swallowing hard and standing as straight as he can. Arslan chuckles, cuffing him lightly on the shoulder. "Loosen up," she urges. "You've got plenty of time to show this school what you're capable of."

The professor steps aside then, and Sun grinds out a Vacuo curse as the students surge together, blocking his view. Arslan seizes him by the back of his shirt before he can try and force his way forward.

"Easy there," she says, holding him back. "No need to get trampled on."

He twists in her hold. "But I wanna see who's first!" he protests.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she hauls him back to stand beside her. "Let me save you a broken leg," she tells him. "It's Pyrrha Nikos."

The name hangs in the air for a moment, and Sun stops struggling, turning to peer at the platinum blond.

"Pyrrha Nikos?" he repeats.

Arslan nods. "First year. Hell of a fighter."

He cocks his head. "But she's only a first year."

The older girl glances down at him, arching an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, so were you, short stuff."

He pouts good-naturedly at the nickname, and she just reaches out to ruffle his hair before turning to go find someone. Probably Reese.

"Stay out of trouble," she calls, looking back over her shoulder to give him a pointed look.

He snaps her a salute that earns him a roll of her eyes before she vanishes into the crowd. Sun watches her go for a moment, before turning to look around the room.

Most everyone is gathered closely around the list—Sun spies a flash of turquoise hair and his lips curl with dislike—so he simply turns an ambles away, deciding to find something else to entertain himself with.

A little ways down the hall, he turns a corner and finds a girl with bright red hair sitting against the wall, toying with something in her gloved hands.

Curious, Sun watches as she holds her palm flat out before herself, three tiny jacks glittering in the sunlight filtering in from the window. He frowns, wondering why she's playing by herself, or how she plans to play without a ball to bounce, when she closes her eyes, curling the fingers of her free hand.

Sun watches—dumbstruck—as the jacks are encased in some kind of golden light and levitate out of the girl's hand, hovering in air. Her fingers twitch and the jacks go spinning away, cartwheeling through the air. The Faunus tracks their path through the air, mesmerized.

"That's so cool!" he exclaims.

The girl gasps and spins, and the jacks go tumbling away. She shoots to her feet, whirling to face him. Their gazes cross and _whoa._ Sun blinks. Those are some seriously green eyes.

"Hi," he greets her, lifting a hand. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. That was a neat trick."

She assess him carefully, expression drawn. Sun worries his lip, wondering if he startled her.

"I'm Sun," he goes on, extending a hand. "I was just trying to get away from the crowd." He gestures over his shoulder in the direction of the list. "What's your name?"

Something he said seems to have thrown her off guard, because she blinks a few times in confusion, staring at him strangely.

"You…don't care about the list?" she asks.

Sun shrugs. "Not really. My friend told me it's just to make people want to work harder. Besides, she already told me who's on top, so I guess that's all I really cared about."

The girl looks askance at him, wary. Sun wonders what he did to make her so uneasy.

"Why do you care who's on the top of the list?" she asks hesitantly.

Sun shrugs, idly scratching at the back of his neck. "I don't know," he admits. "I guess I would want to meet them and ask them how they got to be so strong." He grins at her. "Then maybe ask to spar with them."

Her expression clears at his words, and she actually laughs. He beams at the noise.

"But everyone else is busy with the list, so…" he trails off, rocking back on his heels. "You wanna spar?"

It seems a pretty safe question—this _is_ a Hunter's Academy. Besides, he's bored out of his mind, and Arslan had told him she wasn't going to spar with him every day, meaning he had to find some new partners.

She blinks at him, looking very caught off guard.

"Oh!" she sounds surprised, but not in a way that would offend him. More like she's somehow very unrehearsed for act of human conversation. Sun lifts an eyebrow as she stammers, trying to get herself together.

Eventually, she clears her throat, starting over. "I'd love to," she begins, and Sun picks up on the formal undercurrent to her speech, marking her as solidly hailing from any Kingdom that _isn't_ Vacuo. Not that he'd thought she _was_ from his home. Nobody in Vacuo has eyes that green. He wonders vaguely who she is.

"Unfortunately, they collected my weapons for inspection, so I'm not sure I can participate." She sounds genuinely upset.

Sun shrugs. They'd taken his staff for the same reason a few days ago, and though it has since been returned to him, initially he'd had a _fit_. It does make him happy to know they do it to everyone, and he hadn't been singled out.

"I mean…" Sun trails off, tail curling and uncurling behind him as he mulls it over. "We could always just do it the old-fashioned way."

She tilts her head, and the headpiece she wears catches the light. Her eyebrows pull together in delicate confusion. "Old…fashioned?" she repeats.

Sun nods, shrugging. "Sure. You know. Like…fists, and stuff." He lifts his own fists for demonstration. Jinni had made damn sure he and the others could defend themselves even if they'd had their weapons stripped.

Her expression clears. "Ah. Hand-to-hand combat." She rises from her seat gracefully, gifting him with a bright smile. "It would be an honor."

Sun's expression wavers, unsure in what world going a few rounds with a Vacuo street rat qualifies as an _honor,_ but he keeps these thoughts to himself.

"Okay…" he trails off, shifting his stance and watching as she does the same. _She's so pale,_ he muses, watching as she bends to adjust one of her knee guards. In Vacuo, being pale was a privilege. It meant you didn't have to spend your days out working under the scorching sun.

Sun knocks his own golden-brown fists together as she finally straightens. She stands only a few inches taller than Sun, and her high red ponytail swings in the light as she assumes a proper stance, expression set and serious.

He throws a casual punch, wanting to feel her out, not wanting to hurt or embarrass her. Maybe she hadn't been trained like he had, and is useless without her weapons. Arlsan told him a lot of people were like that.

She sidesteps it calmly, looking delightedly puzzled at his lazy punch before striking out with her leg in a roundhouse kick so abrupt, Sun actually drops to the ground to avoid getting his head knocked off his shoulders.

Grinning at the turns of events—so the redhead could play, could she?—he swipes out with his leg to try and take her out at her ankles. She dodges his sweeping kick nimbly, but his momentum spins him around and his hand shoots out like lighting to wrap around her leg and forcibly pull her to the ground.

She falls gracefully, but a fall is still a fall, and Sun has her pinned in a flash.

"Mercy?" he taunts, cocking an eyebrow. If he were back in the desert, and this was Nadav, he'd be weighing the other fighter down with everything he had. But this isn't Vacuo, and this girl certainly isn't the rough-and-tumble nomad Sun had sparred with in his youth, so he cautiously holds himself over her form, not wanting to hurt her.

She stares back at him, and a smirk curves her lips.

"Not likely," she returns, and all of a sudden she's _twisting_ beneath him, throwing back an elbow that strikes Sun square in the jaw and knocks him backwards. She rises fluidly, whipping her leg around to catch him in the chest, but Sun's a second too quick, throwing himself into backwards summersault and rising into a crouch a few feet away, watching her carefully.

"You're quite good," she compliments with a smile.

He flashes her a roguish grin. "We're just getting started."

A small crowd seems have formed as they continue to trade blows. She's faster than he'd expected, and manages to knock him off his feet a few times, though he always gets away before she can pin him. Her gauntlet-guarded fists pack a punch, but he notices she doesn't pull back, and for that he's strangely glad. Even Arslan had gone easy on him in their spar, but this girl isn't giving him any slack.

_Who **is** she?_ She doesn't seem to be that much older than him, if at all. And most upperclassmen don't give the new students the time of day.

He's about to duck her next punch and go for an uppercut counter, when a voice calls from the crowd: _"Why're you wasting your time with him, Pyrrha?"_

Sun immediately stops his movements, turning to glare at the source of the voice. _Pyrrha?_ he thinks wildly. _**That** Pyrrha?_

His opponent, however, continues her previous action—punching Sun square in the face.

_"Ow!"_ he hisses, rearing away and clapping a hand to his face, growling a few choice Vacuo curses.

The redhead gasps, eyes going wide. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she says, checking him over anxiously before turning to scowl at whoever had spoken. Sun just wipes the blood away with the back of his hand. If Vacuo had taught him anything, it's that a fight's not over until someone calls mercy.

He immediately swings into an arcing kick, determined to capitalize on her distraction, but she senses the attack and bends backwards at the waist, her spine becoming parallel to the floor.

Her opponent's foot sweeps across the space she'd been a heartbeat before, and Pyrrha leans back further, arching herself into a handstand and twisting her legs around the attacking limb.

Locked awkwardly in mid-roundhouse kick, Sun can only watch helplessly as Pyrrha grins smugly at him. Even upside-down, it's playful and bright.

"I could dislocate your hip right now," she tells him conversationally.

He barks a laugh at this. "Do it, and I'll send my friend after you. And she's a _lot_ scarier than me."

"Mercy?" she asks teasingly.

They stare at each other for a moment before he finally relents.

"Mercy," he agrees. "Now let me go, or I'm gonna fall over."

With a small grin, she releases the Faunus, bending her elbows to get enough leverage to propel herself into a back handspring, which he notes she pulls off with grace that leaves him fairly breathless.

"Well fought," she tells him earnestly. Her expression darkens as she lifts a hand to pass over the busted lip her right-hook had left him with, and she turns to scowl at the crowd.

"Who spoke earlier?" she demands, and Sun is slightly surprised at her anger on his behalf.

He really can't find it within himself to be surprised when Neptune steps forward, scowling fiercely at the other boy.

_"You,"_ he growls, moving to stalk towards the other boy, but Pyrrha beats him to it.

"Neptune?" she asks, frowning. "Why would you say such things?"

Sun glowers at the other boy. "Because he thinks he's better than everyone else."

Neptune smirks, lifting his chin. "Better than _you,_ at least," he taunts.

"Neptune!" Pyrrha protests.

Sun's pulling his staff off his back before he knows what he's doing, and murmurs go up from the crowd. A weaponless spar is one thing. An armed conflict is quite another.

Neptune cocks an eyebrow, reaching for his own weapon.

"We doing this, goat boy?" Neptune asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I won't go easy on you like she did."

Sun makes to surge forward, but Pyrrha seizes his arm, staring darkly at Neptune.

"That's quite enough, Neptune," she tells him firmly. She glances sideways at the Faunus. "Just go, Sun," she insists quietly. "I'll take care of this. Don't get into trouble for something like this."

Sun sees a flash of platinum blonde hair force its way to the front of the crowd as Arslan tries to get to him.

If he asked, he knows the older girl would take care of everything. She'd saunter up, take a stand behind him, crack her knuckles, and loudly demand if anyone has a problem.

Instead he turns away, throwing his staff back on his back and storming out of the hall.

-0-

Hours later, Sun still hasn't returned.

Part of him knows he's being petulant and stupid, but his ears still burn with embarrassment. It doesn't matter that Pyrrha had defended him—Neptune had still decided to step in and ruin his day.

He grips one of the rafters tightly, swinging himself up and over to land smoothly on it. He'd milled around outside until the cafeteria had emptied from the dinner crowd, and now he contents himself with trapezing around the rafters in the deserted lunchroom. He wonders what he did to deserve Neptune's continued harassment. Had he really "stolen his thunder" that day in the market? Sun's gifted eye always seemed to agitate when he was around, But Sun himself is always too agitated to care.

He makes another jump, grunt of effort echoing around the empty lunchroom. He'd ditched his shirt and his staff, and it almost felt like he was back in Vacuo, flipping through the sparse trees in the desert.

His encounter with Neptune won't leave him alone, and makes him more daring than he ought to be. He calculates distances with hardly a glance, throwing himself across the room to seize another bar, and just hangs there for a moment, scanning the room for his next goal, storm-grey eyes spying a series of jumps too tempting to pass up. He grins as he gathers his momentum and leaps.

His anger makes him sloppy, as Jinni had lectured him countless times that it would.

He grabs the bar and twists to throw himself into another leap to reach the next set of rafters. But he mistimes his jump, and twists too early, resulting in a nasty pull to his shoulder that draws a low bark of pain from Sun. He instinctively releases his hold on the bar to slap a hand over his wrenched arm, and goes tumbling from the rafters.

Sun crashes into the ground, wincing as his shoulder flares with pain. He rolls a little bit, gritting his teeth as he waits for the aching to subside enough for him to rise shakily to his feet.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ he berates himself as he collects his shirt and staff. Sun steps outside into the cool evening, releasing a heavy sigh as he stares up at the moon, clutching is thrown shoulder tightly. Jinni would berate him endlessly if she ever found out about this.

"Do you ever sleep?"

Sun looks up in surprise to see a tall boy staring at him from the doorway of the main hall, arching an eyebrow. Sun vaguely recognizes him from around the school, but he's never spoken too him. He recalls seeing an enormous broadsword across his back, and is slightly disappointed when he is without it. When Sun doesn't answer he draws closer.

"You never came back after your little spat with Neptune," the boy goes on. "People are saying you ran away."

Shame burns in Sun's cheeks as he stares determinedly out at the river that winds around the school grounds.

"I don't run away," he insists with a snap.

The boy raises his eyebrows. _"Really?"_

Sun just throws him a dirty look as he sinks down, resting his head back against the outer wall of the lunchroom. He just wants this day to end.

"You're hurt." The tall boy ambles over, standing over him. Sun's dully impressed at his height.

Sun lifts his chin. "I'm fine," he insists.

The boy just levels a disbelieving look at him. "You're hurt _and_ a liar," he replies.

Sun's expression drops, his mouth falling open to defend himself, when the boy takes a seat beside him.

"Wanna talk about it?" he offers.

Sun frowns stubbornly. "Talk about _what?"_ He's practically pouting.

The boy just chuckles, shaking his head. "Anybody ever tell you you've got an attitude?" he asks, looking askance at Sun and raising a questioning brow.

Sun snorts. Have they ever. Just about every person he's ever crossed paths with has seen fit to comment on the hardness of his head.

"What do you want?" Sun asks gruffly, crossing his arms and staring out at the river, ignoring the flare of pain in his bad shoulder.

The boy eyes him—Sun can feel his heavy, golden gaze—but doesn't comment. Eventually, he just sighs.

"Look. We can dance around it all you want, but the fact is you've got a wrenched shoulder and I'm not going to be able to sleep until I've done something about it. So _please_ just let me shove your arm back into place so I can get my five hours in."

Sun blinks. It's the longest sentence he's heard the boy say, even if his words don't make any sense.

"Why do you care about my arm?" Sun asks, nose wrinkled in confusion. His words hold no heat—not even that petty accusation he'd clung to earlier. Now he's just confused. And curious.

The boy just sighs again, and Sun bites his lip to hide a grin. The way he sighs reminds him of Jinni—the way she'd stand, hand on her hip, staring at the others with one eyebrow raised—looking not like the battle-hardened nomad she is, but rather an old woman who has raised countless children all on her own, and nothing they do surprises her anymore, so she just lives in a constant state of mild annoyance and deep resignation.

The memory draws a smile at first, but his foul mood quickly squashes it, and he sits back roughly against the wall, ignoring the pain that flares as the movement jostles his shoulder.

He feels the boy's gaze again and resolutely ignores it.

"I'm Sage," he introduces himself after a moment. He doesn't extend a hand, and Sun is thankful for it. "Sage Ayana. I'm a healer, so obsessing over injures is kind of my thing."

Sun pulls a face. "You're a healer?" He thinks of the enormous broadsword he'd seen the boy carrying some time earlier and quirks a skeptical brow.

Sage snorts at his shameless disbelief. "Yeah," he answers casually, crossing his arms as he stares out at the dark water. "All Ayanas are. It's a family Semblance."

This catches the Faunus' curiosity. "A family Semblance?" he asks. "How does that work?"

Sage tosses him a look. "Ever heard of the Schnees?" he inquires, and something in the boy's tone tells Sun he _should_ know.

But he doesn't. So he shrugs.

Sage nods to himself, like Sun is confirming something he'd been thinking. "Probably for the best, since you're a Faunus and all. But whatever. Family Semblances are as straight-forward as they sound: it's a Semblance that gets passed down." He shrugs. "Any Ayana worth a damn's been a healer."

Sun cocks his head. "What about the ones not worth a damn?" he asks, distantly realizing that probably sounds rude. But decorum has never been his in his skill set, and he's fairly positive if he says something particularly uncouth, Sage is perfectly capable of just picking him up and tossing him in the river.

A smirk curves Sage's lips, no offense apparently taken. "That's the secret. We're _all_ worth a damn."

It takes him a moment, but eventually the proverbial light bulb goes off and Sun smirks back.

They just exchange wry grins in the dark for a moment, before Sun absentmindedly shifts position and can't stop a hiss of pain at the resulting twinge in his bad arm. He glances up to see Sage zeroed in on the injury, expression hard.

"So," the blond remarks, temper somewhat soothed. Sage has an easygoing presence, he notices distractedly. "What's a guy gotta do to get his arm put back into place?"

"Ask nicely." But Sage is already shifting, moving from his spot against the wall to kneel at Sun's side, eyes riveted to his shoulder. "It looks clean, which leads me to believe you did it yourself, and didn't lose a fight." He arches an eyebrow, glancing up to give the Faunus a knowing look.

Sun's expression sours. "I don't lose fights."

Sage snorts, lowering his eyes back to his arm. "Everybody loses fights. And it's a good thing they do, or I'd be out of a job." He flexes the fingers of his left hand, and Sun watches with interest as gold sparks sizzle and snap at his fingertips.

"Pyrrha Nikos doesn't lose fights," Sun finds himself saying. He thinks of the girl he'd met that day. The untouchable, unbeatable, gladiator who doubled as a kind and graceful redhead.

"Not all fights are physical," Sage murmurs, and Sun wonders if he had been intended to hear it. Faunus have better hearing than most people think.

Nothing is said for a moment, and Sun just listens to the running water of the river and watches as Sage looks over his shoulder, awash in a pale, golden glow from his hand, which he holds aloft, lighting his observations.

"Well, lucky for you, it's not that bad," Sage eventually remarks. He lowers his hand, extinguishing the light.

Sun tilts his head. "Do you always turn your hand into a flashlight?" he asks, genuinely curious.

Sage levels a flat look at him. "I want you to remember that adorable little comment when I have to heal you for real. Because real healing—like, using my actual _Semblance?_ Hurts like a _bitch."_

Sun smirks at his attitude, but can't help but ask, "What do you mean, when you heal me for real?"

It's Sage's turn to smirk. "You strike me as the kinda guy that invites disaster," he explains. Sun tenses as Sage lays his broad hands over his wounded shoulder. "Which means I have this funny feeling that someday—"

Sun barks out a nasty Vacuo swear that would have earned him a month on cleanup duty if Jinni had heard him use it when Sage suddenly gives a hearty twist, snapping his arm back into place. He stares absolute _daggers_ at the healer, whose smirk has gained a smug edge.

"You were saying?" Sun prompts icily, even as he shifts away from the other boy.

Sage chuckles, not a glimmer of remorse in his eyes. "I was _saying,_ I have a feeling I'm gonna see you again, and you're gonna have worse than a dislocated shoulder."

Sun opens his mouth to retort back, when the boy catches his jaw with one broad hand and a fierce heat burns his skin for the briefest of seconds.

"Ow!" Sun shouts, tugging his jaw out of the other boy's grip and scowling. "What was that for?"

"You had a pretty ugly bruise," Sage explains casually. "It was bothering me, but it's gone now." He rises to his feet, and Sun is struck again by his height. "See you around. Try to stay in one piece." He lifts a dark hand in farewell before turning and making his way back inside to the main hall.

Sun watches him go, rolling his shoulder experimentally, smiling to himself when the joints move smoothly and painlessly. He turns then, making his way back to Sanctum's cafeteria. He's determined to make that jump. Not that he's focused, he's sure that he can.

He tugs off his shirt as he reenters the abandoned lunchroom, quickly climbing back to the rafters. He balances easily on the beam, scanning the room for the spot where he'd fallen, when his eyes catch on something that had absolutely not been there before.

"Hello?" Sun calls uncertainly, frowning. He climbs higher and takes a few jumps, drawing nearer. "Hello?"

A boy with a shock of red hair twisted into a short braid looks up with alarm, and Sun smiles welcomingly.

The boy frowns back at him. "What'chu lookin' at?" he asks, and Sun blinks at his accent.

"Um, you, I guess," Sun replies, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good gracious this is getting out of hand and I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Sun's scene in the rafters was a little hard to write, but I'm pretty happy with everything else. Don't get too bent out of shape about Neptune's bad attitude, it'll be explained eventually.
> 
> I hope you all liked tiny Pyrrha. She was a treat to write.
> 
> Have a good week, team!

**Author's Note:**

> OH BOY HERE WE FUCKING GO
> 
> So yeah. It's another long, multi-fic because SSSN needs a fucking origin story dammit.
> 
> Beware, lots of my personal headcanons and a few OCs abound. I don't mean to ruin your guys' own canon, but like the RWBY crew didn't give me a lot to work with.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!


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